A Golden Sorrow
by greenliandakes
Summary: She was the subject of government human experimentation, genetically engineered to be the pillar for a new weapons race. But nothing could prepare her for the world outside four white walls, and the man hell-bent on ruling it.


**Chapter 1**

**Of Delicate Dispositions**

If one were to assume that Theodore Stuart was not having a good day, they would be absolutely, inarguably, and regrettably accurate.

When he'd woken that morning, he'd discovered that he had overslept for a good hour, making him nearly late for the very class he taught, and in his rush to get out the door, spilt coffee down the front of his shirt a grand total of 5 times. Changing into a fresh one took about 3 minutes each time, since his stumbling, clumsy fingers failed to correctly button the damned thing. Then, Marlowe, the middle-aged Scottish Fold that resided with Theodore, absolutely refused to let him out of the house by shredding his shoes (_oh he hated that demonic cat_) and so he spent another 6 or 7 minutes rooting around his closet for another pair of shoes that were half a size too small- just enough to be noticeably uncomfortable. And _then_, once he'd finally gotten into his car and started the engine, the ancient piece of machinery had the audacity to sputter and cough before giving up completely, no matter how many times he jerked the key back.

And so he sat, slouching to slam his head onto the deteriorating steering wheel, the very picture of defeat while he struggled to pull himself out of the black hole of depression that was constantly threatening to swallow him up. That was when the firm, loud knocking on his door window startled him so badly, he jumped and consequently smacked his head into the car roof.

"Dr. Stuart," the level voice outside the car began, and Theodore turned his attention to the man dressed smartly in a black suit and shades. "If you would exit the vehicle, there are some things we'd like to discuss with you."

Theodore stammered, full of fear (_who was this imposing man and what did he want with him?_), as he struggled with the door handle. He finally wrenched it open and stumbled out, the man in the suit doing nothing but stand there calmly and watch. When Theodore righted himself and straightened out his slightly rumpled clothing, the man in black gestured to the street behind Theodore, and that was when the scrawny Doctor finally noticed the black SUV idling by the curb. His fear doubled.

"If you would, Dr. Stuart, this is not a discussion meant to be held in public."

Theodore did not dare to even think about arguing, given that he was not in a position to do so anyway (_and the man in black looked like he was "packing", as the kids called it these days_), so he made his way toward the SUV, the stranger trailing behind him closely and opening the door for him once they were close enough.

That was where Theodore hesitated.

"Dr. Stuart, please get in."

And he did.

Before he could orient himself, before he could blink, a blindfold was immediately stretched over his eyes and he yelped.

"Apologies Dr. Stuart, but we are taking you to a secure location. A location you cannot know yet."

"Who are you?" Theodore squeaked, burning curiosity overcoming his fright for just a moment.

"Agent Coulson, part of Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. SHIELD, for short."

"You- You're a government agent?" Theodore didn't know how he knew, but he would swear Agent Coulson was smiling wryly.

"You could say that."

Conversation ended after that, and Theodore lost his sense of time. The car stopped after a while and he was escorted out of the car, into some type of climate controlled building and then was settled down in a cold, hard metal chair when the blindfold was yanked off his head.

"Dr. Stuart, my name is Nick Fury."

And what happened after changed his life forever.

He was informed that his expertise in the field of psychology and sociology was something SHIELD needed, and his hobby of bird watching was exactly what they were looking for. He didn't know why bird-watching was so important, and when he asked, Mr. Fury simply smiled a damnable smile and told the two men guarding the door to "bring her in". They nodded, left, and came back almost immediately.

With a tall girl following behind them.

Theodore stared as the door to the interrogation room shut once again. The slight female wore little clothing; just a simple cropped blue shirt that exposed a fair amount of her midriff, a large, unzipped hoodie over it, and a pair of black sweat pants rolled up to the knees. The oddest thing about her was the fact that she was completely barefoot.

When his eyes traveled to her face, he froze. Everything about the girl was angular and almost dangerous. Her jaw was tight, her cheekbones sharp like her nose. Her eyes were naturally narrowed, golden eyes framed by dark lashes but obscured by long, disheveled brown hair.

There was nothing soft or innocent about her, and it was almost impossible to tell her age just by looking. She screamed of a deadly force that could be practically unstoppable. She was intimidating, wild, a natural predator. But she was also very beautiful, and it struck him speechless.

That is, until those amber eyes focused on his own and he was speechless from fear. Again.

Fury smiled that same damnable smile and turned to the expressionless, strange girl. "Try not to damage this one," he said, and then left them.

In the room.

Alone.

Together.

She was a natural predator, and Theodore knew- he _knew _deep within his quaking bones, that without a shadow of a doubt-

He was the prey.

She didn't even know who the man sitting in the metal chair was and she was already unimpressed. His constant twitching was giving her a headache, mostly because the Other Half kept wanting to swoop in and devour the fidgety little mouse, and containing that urge was taking a lot out of her. She stood and watched raptly, her posture nothing less than perfect and ready to move at a moment's notice; head high, shoulders back, arms at her sides with her fists clenched, and her feet shoulder width apart.

The mouse was opening and closing his mouth, every bit as useless as he looked, but she pitied him not. She hated all the previous doctors SHIELD brought in for her to approve, and this one would be no different. Who were they even trying to fool?

"I- oh, hello. I, uh, I'm Dr. Theodore Stuart, but you can call me Dr. Stuart. Or Mr. Stuart. Or really just Theodore. You can even call me Theo, I don't really mind," he laughed nervously. Oh Lord, the Mouse was talking now.

She blinked, never even thinking about responding as he shifted uneasily under her silent attention. "It's nice to meet you, I suppose…?"

She blinked again, slower, more casually this time, as if she hadn't even heard him- as if he weren't even there. The left corner of his eye twitched. She noted it.

"What is your name?" he pressed. She gave him a little credit. At least he was persistent.

She let the question hang in the air for a solid half minute before she moved. Stepping forward, she leaned across the metal table that divided them and braced her hands on it, her face drawing within inches of his own and her head twisted with a malicious sort of curiosity. His beady brown eyes widened almost humorously so (if she bothered to care or understand such humor) and he tried to push away. The chair backing prevented it.

She inhaled slowly, marveling at the way his pupils dilated, and the way the air in his throat seemed to stick, and the way the vein his neck throbbed with increased blood flow. She could almost taste his anxiety, and it was a bitter sort of taste; unfavorable, yet addicting all the same.

"I have none," she answered and paused. "But they seem to favor referring to me as Deirdre. You may address me as such as well."

He visibly relaxed slightly, not only because he now had a thread to grasp for conversation, but her voice was oddly soothing, so contradictory to her appearance. It was deeper than an average female's. Earthy, almost. Smooth. He thought of warmth, and the color brown, like milk chocolate. Compassion, too. "Deirdre? Like the Celtic legend?"

"I can only assume so." She spoke slowly, easy, her words carefully enunciated in a way that made it seem like she didn't even have to work at it. She had no tone however, no lilt or stress to any of her words. They were just said. Emotionlessly, flatly. "Stop."

He jumped, concerned that he'd been caught in assessing her. "W-what? Stop what?"

"Your consistent twitching. It is like a small rodent… A mouse, to be precise. It is confusing my natural instinct to rip you apart."

"R-rip me apart?!" he screeched, tense all over again. Her deadpan expression, the one she had been maintaining the entire time, did not once falter as she stood to her full height once more.

"Have they not informed you? How remiss of them."

"Informed me of what? I'm afraid I don't understand!"

She leveled him with a flat stare and her shoulders rolled back, her back arching, as if she were stretching, and slowly, steadily, two darkly colored monstrosities moved out from either side of her. From what he could see, in the one way mirror placed behind her, they were _protruding from her back. _

"That I am a genetically engineered human-avian hybrid, designed specifically for less than tasteful purposes."

There was a quiet moment, a calm before the storm perhaps, where Theodore stared. She had noticed his breathing had stopped but she did not move. If she had pegged his character correctly (and she most likely had, she had an IQ of over 220) he would likely pass out any second now. She didn't need to speed up the process by advancing on him and causing his nerves to strain even further. He was pale, she noted that as well, and unnaturally still. She would have thought him dead had she not been able to hear his heart thumping wildly within his ribcage.

But then, to her great, inward amusement, his eyes rolled back and he slid sideways out of the chair, landing face first on the hard ground.

She turned to the wide mirror behind her, and addressed the man that she knew was behind it.

"Agent Fury, I seem to have upset his delicate disposition."

* * *

**A/N: **Ayyyy how's it going guys? Long time, no see, amirite? Ah, but c'est la vie. College is a butt kicker, and I'm only a freshman. I can't imagine how it's going to be for me later down the road.

Eh, I'll cross that bridge when I get there.

Anyway, here's a little something new for you. Read it. Ponder it. It's going to be a fairly simple little story, but it will be fun. Hopefully. Of course there'll be romance, a wee bit of suspense and drama. And whatever else I feel necessary to throw in. Give me some input; yay, nay?

**_~green_**


End file.
